Biblica Magica
by Reyka Sivao
Summary: "Make a contract with me...and become a member of the Tribulation Force."


Author's Note: Originally posted in the Slactivist Left Behind review comments, because who doesn't need a reimagining of yet another end of the world?

(Full title: Homo Magi Biblica Magica. But that might give the wrong impression.)

* * *

Rayford sank to the floor, his face in his hands.

They were gone, and there was nothing he could do.

He couldn't feel it, not really. His mind was numb, but his body was shaking with what he eventually realized were sobs, and and his face was wet with what must be tears. He hid his face, thought there was no one there to hide it from.

The cat brushed up against his knees, a comforting gesture, but it only served to remind him of how alone he really was.

If only he had listened...maybe he would have died with them, at least.

The cat put its paws on the knees Rayford had drawn up to his chest.

Rayford's eyes opened without his direction, but it was a moment before they cleared of tears.

It was only a moment, but it was long enough to jog a memory of his wife's tears when her beloved cat had died the month before.

The eyes that held his were rings of red within red. Not quite a cat's eyes at all.

"Is this form not acceptable to you?"

Rayford stared. The cat-or whatever it was-had not spoken, but he knew what it had said.

"Perhaps not. What about this one?"

The cat-creature removed its paws from his knees, and delicately moved a few steps away. It tossed its head andshimmered.

The shimmer grew until Rayford was looking up instead of forward, and then it solidified into something more human.

"Is this more acceptable?" said the creature in the same not-voice, and turned to face him again.

Rayford's lip parted, but not even a whisper of breath escaped him. The face was a familiar one-he had passed it in the hallway every day for the last decade.

"Not the most historically accurate depiction," said Jesus, still without moving his now-human lips. He brushed brown shoulder-length hair away from his face and tilted his head slightly. "But perhaps more meaningful to you."

"Who are you?" said Rayford, finally finding his voice.

"Good question," said Jesus, or not-Jesus. "But perhaps a better question would be 'who am I not?'. But either way, that's not important right now."

"Not important?" said Rayford. Somewhere, he found the energy to rise to his feet from his vulnerable place on the floor.

"Not really," said not-Jesus. "What's important right now is that you have something you want. Somehting you want more than anything in this world. And I'm here to give it to you."

Rayford clenched his hands. "You can't give me what I want."

"Oh, but I can," said the figure. "I can do anything. Anything at all." He shook his head again, still more like a cat than a human. "I am here to make you an offer," he said. "I will grant you one wish."

Rayford looked at him. By this point, he was fairly certain none of this was real...or else it was all too real. Either way, the fact that he was talking to Jesus who had just been a cat in his bedroom seemed less important than the things he was saying.

"In exchange for what?"

Jesus-cat laughed, still without moving his lips. It was a musical sound, if it was a sound at all.

"It's been so long since I've worked with humans who have outgrown their naivete!" he said. "At least until recently. In exchange, dear Rayford, I want you to make a contract with me."

"And what does that contract say?"

In the back of his mind, there were thoughts of lawyers and careful reading, but that, again, seemed less than important at the moment.

"Make a contract with me, and become..." Jesus tilted his head and paused. "Well, perhaps my old vocabulary is unsuitable. Become a part of the fight for justice, you might say. Become a warrior for good in this time of tribulation."

Rayford frowned. "And in exchange for that, I get a wish?"

"You do."

"Any wish I want?"

"Anything at all."

"Can you raised the dead?"

Jesus smiled. "Of course!"

Rayford looked away. "And if I say no?"

Jesus shrugged. "Then you'll never get your wish."

Rayford bit his lip. If any of this was real at all, there was a catch. If he wasn't dreaming, he would most certainly regret it.

"I wish..." he said, and paused.

He could almost see Jesus' ears perk up. "Yes?"

"I wish to have the power to stop this. This tribulation, the antichrist...all of it. I want to have the power to make it end."

Jesus' smile widened to Cheshire proportions. "Wish granted."

Pain lanced through Rayford's chest, and he knew in an instant that none of it was a dream.

* * *

Buck stared around, lost in a world that no longer made sense. He hardly even noticed the figure approaching him.

"Cameron Williams," it said, and he jerked at the sound of the name no one used.

"Make a contract with me, and become a member of the Tribulation Force."


End file.
